Frivolous Monsters

The Reading Room 05

Visiting late-night library Wednesday is like an episode of the old children’s cartoon Mr. Benn in that with each visit you spin the wheel of local-characters and that you never know which of them is going to go off.

bear 2

I arrived to find that the man who I reckoned looked like he was required to drink special medicine that required refrigeration, to stave off fighting bears in the gutter that only existed in his own imagination, was fast asleep on the sofa. The library might have been a local seat of learning, but this was just par for the course.

Before the nearest librarian could interject he began talking out loud in his sleep, shouting: “if she can’t change a nappy then why should I?

Awoken by the librarian’s cry he sprang up alarmed, demanding to know where the voice was coming from, as if it was booming from the ceiling. He then went and bothered a man with a panda black eye, before quizzing me on whether I worked for the library or not, before staggering off-stage like John Wayne with constipation.

The wake of his departure may have left many people with many questions, but the main thing that I wanted to know was how did he have children before me? How was it, in this town, that this man was deemed a catch?


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5 thoughts on “The Reading Room 05

  1. This is what having children can do to you – especially in the early days when you are sleep deprived. Be warned.

    • I know Mr Spock’s childcare book starts off with “you know more than you think you do”, but I’d have never guessed to how it led to sleeping in the library just to get away from the nappy changing!

    • I have changed nappies before. My niece, definitely, possibly my goddaughter, and they both have younger brothers. My memory grows dim but I’ve definitely had a couple of goes, under instruction, but I’m sure this isn’t the same as whatever grinds new parents down.

      I imagine I have got a lot of the ick factor out of me through the years of clearing up various messes from cats. I don’t know how it compares, but I doubt you’d have to wrestle with a new-born in the shower in the early hours, trying to hack away at its matted fur, whilst covered in impacted semi-solid green stuff.

      • 🙂 I too have wrestled a cat under the sink tap after it had gone for a swim in the slurry pit at the dairy farm we used to live next to. Luckily, we had imbibed quite a bit that evening and my mother, who had been babysitting, only barely managed to mask her look of astonishment/admiration/disgust as, still in our evening clothes, we matter of factly plunged the unwilling kitty into the sink and proceeded to try to wash it clean. We sustained various injuries that night.

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